Snapshots of another time.

Of late, snapshots of a time keep creeping up. They come to mind in flashes while I go through my day for no apparent reason. Snapshots that time won’t erase. A time of peace, newness and wonder. Those snapshots I shall keep.

The mind is a baffling thing. What it chooses to keep and discard is not something we decide. It just stubbornly leaves some memories intact, no matter how much time goes by.

My snapshots are those of beautiful places. Of a winter far gone, but seemingly left intact no matter what storms they weathered.

“I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.” ― Virginia Woolf